William flicked his book closed and stood, hand folded neatly behind his back. His eyes showed all the high bred notions he'd been raised to hold dear to his heart. "That isn't what I meant. Your things are filth, for simply being yours. Or does that concept require too much thought for your bumpkin brain to understand?" The young man snorted derisively as he moved to toe the line between their respective sections so he could get a better look at all the things being unpacked.

Where was the style, the elegance? Everything was just so ... mundane and low-brow. "What I learn is no concern of yours. In fact, I would rather you didn't speak to me at all. It would have been best if you stayed in the country where you belong." William just wanted to dark haired man gone, away from his sight. He'd ruined a perfectly good morning of peace and quiet with his arrival. The fact that Angel had brought his family had made everything worse, it stung horribly, though William wouldn't ever admit to anyone why. Not even himself.